


I Crave Your Touch

by NowMakeThemKiss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Demon Dean, Falling Castiel, Fantasizing, Longing, M/M, Masturbation, casturbation, pre-season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowMakeThemKiss/pseuds/NowMakeThemKiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hears Dean above all the white noise in his head. He hears Dean longing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Crave Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viscouslover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscouslover/gifts).



> A gift for viscouslover who wanted a fic where Cas was jerkin' it in his sad blue bathrobe and Dean was _longing_.
> 
> Sorry for the feels, somehow the smut got all covered in angst.

Four weeks have passed. Dean Winchester has been gone for exactly twenty eight days, and yet time is advancing as if this ungrateful world has not lost anything. As each day ends with no news of his whereabouts or even a clue as to why he left, Sam is increasingly frantic. He calls Cas almost daily with bits of information- desperately grasping at even the most insignificant occurrence to find a trail of breadcrumbs to his brother. Sam never says as much during their conversations, but Cas knows that he fears they are failing in their mission- that Dean is already dead.

Cas knows better though. He knows beyond a doubt that Dean is still walking the earth. He also knows that Dean is no longer the same Righteous Man that he had once saved. He knows all of this because, though his grace is fading fast, he can still _hear_ Dean. While Cas has always been able to hear Dean's prayers, his pleas, he could also tune them out. Now he is focusing what limited grace remains on listening for Dean, fearing that he soon won't be able to. It might be a foolish choice, to hold onto his connection to his friend when his powers could be put to better use, but for once Cas wants to be foolish.

At first, he had thought that his waning angelic powers were affecting his perception of Dean's yearnings. They were squirming and ugly and fueled by hate- not compatible at all with even the darkest thoughts of his best friend. But as the days continue to pass with bursts of selfish want careening through the ether from Dean, Cas is forced to accept the truth he had feared: Dean is no longer himself. He isn't praying to Cas for help or guidance. In fact, it's likely he is unaware that Cas can hear him at all- but he does. He hears Dean above all the white noise in his head. He hears Dean _longing_.

Dean is longing, but not for the safety of his brother or a cold beer or a chance to take a break. No, for twenty eight days Dean has been longing for other things. He still often wants alcohol, but now Cas also feels his near constant ache for power and violence. Though it's hard knowing that Dean has become such a polluted version of his true self, Cas can still focus on finding a way to help him become that man again. That is, he might be able to focus if Dean wasn't also longing for _Cas_.

When it happens, it's all Cas can do to remain upright. The force of Dean's desire is nearly unbearable and lately it has been coming with even more frequency. At first he only feels Dean lusting. He is aware that he wants sexual gratification because he _aches_ for it. Though Cas tries to ignore it and busy himself with discussing the many pressing issues he has been shouldered with, brainstorming with Hannah or Sam provides little distraction. He still feels what Dean wants, and he can only imagine when the abrupt end of the yearning comes, that Dean has found his release with some unknown partner.

What becomes difficult for Cas to understand is why the sudden fulfillment of Dean's bodily needs is always preceded by a pull on him that is even stronger than that of Dean's former prayers. It is apparent that Dean desires Cas' presence with more fervor when having sex and this fact, more than his waning grace, is slowly killing Cas because he too is longing.

Cas has known that he loves Dean in a way that he can not understand- a way that he was not meant to - for far longer than he is willing to admit. Chalking it up to heavenly duty well past the point of being believable. But now that he feels Dean wanting him, his body and what might be left of his soul reaching blindly for Cas, it is becoming impossible to ignore. 

In truth, Cas is tired of ignoring it- lying on this bed in this nondescript room and waiting for something to happen. Waiting for an answer to be found for any one of his mounting problems. His health and strength are failing and these "rests" are becoming more frequent and necessary. He glances at the time on his cell phone and drops back down to the pillow with a deep sigh. In just twenty minutes Hannah will be back, expecting him to be a leader when all he wants to do is mourn the loss of his best friend and the love he never admitted.

He moves his hand up and across his chest, slowly slipping it under the dark blue robe that has become a second skin in these quiet moments. A comfort he sheds when duty demands it. The touch of skin to skin, even his own, is almost overwhelming. To feel tenderness and warmth is a balm to his frayed nerves. He makes small circles and patterns on his chest. Brushing over a nipple and sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation, his eyes fly open when he realizes that his mind is supplying images of Dean.

Cas doesn't still his movements and instead drags his other hand past the loosely knotted belt and tentatively lays it on his growing erection. Unsure of whether he will take the next step, he closes his eyes again and concentrates on breathing. He decides that he _needs_ to feel something for himself that is beyond all of his duties. He always gives everything he can and for once he just wants to take. To imagine that good things still do happen.

Cas is not completely clueless when it comes to masturbation, though he has no practice in the art. When Metatron forced his mind to download the stories of humanity, a surprisingly large percentage involved sexual activity. Cas knows what to do, and he knows that humans usually look at pornography or think of someone while self pleasuring. Having observed humanity for longer than he can quantify, Cas has a large pool from which to pull an attractive image, and yet he knows that there is really only one choice.

He is suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a surge of aching desire, though it is not his own. Dean is at it again, only this time it is not nondescript, but a constant mantra of _Cas, need, want, Cas, need, want_. Cas is startled into a coughing fit and as he slowly calms his breathing he realizes that Dean's yearning for him might be real. His mind is a jumble of images of Dean. The myriad of times that he looked at his beautiful friend and recognized the love he felt. Closing his eyes again, Cas gets a handle on his thoughts and brings into focus one clear image of Dean with a smile that plays in his eyes. A fleeting thought comes of what those eyes might look like now, dead or tarnished to an evil blackness, but Cas pushes that thought away and holds the true Dean in his mind's eye. He concentrates and resumes his explorations. 

With his right hand now firmly gripping his shaft, Cas begins a slow drag up and down it's length, soon realizing the stuttering of his movements are caused by lack of lubrication. Recalling a film he never watched, Cas brings his hand to his mouth and gives it several slow licks, making sure his tongue is overly wet for each pass. Unwilling to lose his blurry thoughts of _Dean_ and _touch_ , Cas gently thrusts his hips to create soft friction between his cock and the plushness of the robe. Each barely there bit of pressure makes him feel a fuzzy tremble traveling up through his chest and it takes him several moments to remember his goal. Returning to it, he finds it a much easier and far more pleasurable experience as he continues thrusting into the welcoming wetness of his hand. His thoughts return to green eyes and sad smiles.

With every jerk of his wrist, Cas's body seems to heat up and his breathing becomes more ragged. Caught in a rhythm, he lets his left hand wander, pinching hardened nipples, stroking the tender skin over his ribs, his stomach…..reaching up to tug on his hair. He is on auto-pilot. Unaware of whether the things he is doing are embedded in his newfound knowledge of mankind or if they are his own natural fumblings. It hardly matters when it all feels so good.

Though he knows he is alone, Cas imagines he can almost _feel_ Dean with him- or at least his intent. He imagines that the yearning he feels from Dean is audible. He imagines he can hear his voice whispering things in his ear like "Beautiful" and "So good, Cas." Dean wants him to know this pleasure and beneath the pulses of longing he senses, Cas can also tell that Dean wants to be the one physically giving him this. There is anger beneath the want.

Cas brings his wandering hand down, scratching nails gently into the skin of his chest and stomach, hastily shoving his robe open to cup at his balls. He squeezes curiously and then again with more fervor as he imagines rougher fingers doing the work. He can't keep the noises that want to escape him at bay any longer and now the small room is echoing his quiet moans and surprised gasps. He is all at once embarrassed and excited by his own audible pleasure and is struck hard by the need to know what noises Dean makes.

Grip firm on his aching dick, Cas increases the pressure and experiments with rubbing his thumb across the tip. He knows it would be even better if Dean's hands were the ones on him now and the inner shame this causes only quickens his pace and desire. He opens his eyes, chancing a look at his actions, realizing that the deeply colored head of his cock is leaking. Stilling his movements, he takes some of the fluid between his fingers and rubs it back and forth between them to learn the texture. Bringing them up to his mouth, he sticks out his tongue for a tentative lick. Wondering if Dean's body would produce a similar tartness, Cas finds himself sucking hungrily on the digits until not a trace is left. 

The room is quiet save the lurid sounds of his efforts and Cas slips his unoccupied hand down to his balls once again to fondle them momentarily before slipping past to the sensitive flesh beyond. His index finger skims across the edge of his hole and immediately his pace quickens. He is gasping, knowing his weakened state is not truly up for the excess strain, but not regretting it at all as he resumes hurriedly tugging on his cock. Daring to press the tip of his finger past his clenching rim into the waiting heat, Cas is lost. His senses are overwhelmed as he hears Dean praying to him with a focused yearning, though he knows it must be his imagination. The tugging on his cock becomes frantic, ass clutching around his trembling finger. With a sudden jolt, white ropes of come shoot out to cover his torso, reaching as far as his chin. His body seizes with pleasure the only sound remaining a broken sigh of " _Dean_ ….". 

Cas slowly opens his eyes and wonders for the briefest of moments, if Dean might hear him too.


End file.
